


Behind Nowhere

by 4ureyesonly28



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Biker!Louis, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Cruising by an Adult Bookstore, First Kiss, M/M, No Smut, San Francisco, Summer Love, brief encounter where somebody comes onto Harry, but no violence, harry is 17, louis is 19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28219293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ureyesonly28/pseuds/4ureyesonly28
Summary: It's the September of 1967 and Harry is curious to find out what the Summer of Love brought to San Francisco.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	Behind Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepeacering](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeacering/gifts).



> This one is for you, [Britt](https://becauseiwasinlove.tumblr.com/)! For being wonderful and making me smile all the time. Happy birthday, queen! 💖
> 
> Huge thanks to [Maggie](https://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/) for the last-minute beta on this! You're the best!

Harry really wasn’t sure which devil had possessed him to turn right instead of left on his way home from school that Friday afternoon. Maybe it was that he’d heard Nick and his gang talk about “Nowhere” again during lunch… 

He liked to spend his lunches under the bleachers next to the football field, usually happy to sit and observe the theatrics (pun very much intended) of the musical kids with his own little group of misfits. 

He didn’t like to admit it, but he liked sitting near Nick and often zoned out of the conversation his friends were having to listen to him. Nick frequently spoke of the Vanguard protests he attended for gay liberation and the community in the Castro. Harry was fascinated with it all. Of course, he never really talked about his feelings regarding the things Nick said, too afraid of facing the consequences he constantly saw Nick enduring, but he couldn’t help but hang onto his lips for every word he spoke. 

There was something in the San Francisco air that year...Many young, queer people had migrated to the city over the summer and the Castro had transformed into a colorful, musical spot full of “love children” – where before it had just been the Scandinavian district. 

Harry hadn’t really been to that part of town in a while, but now he was walking towards the adult bookstore Nick kept talking about with quick steps. He’d heard whispers before, that in and around the shop was a spot to go “cruising”, but he had no idea what that even really entailed. He just wanted to see everything he’d heard about for the last few weeks in person. He wanted to see what it was like and if the people there were really as free and full of love as he’d heard.

Before long, he’d turned into the right street and he was then faced with a big neon sign on the corner of a building reading “Nowhere.” There was a tagline under it, that Harry read as he approached. “Go nowhere. Come as you are.”

There were several things about that, that made Harry furrow his brow. He’d not expected it to be so...funny? Lighthearted? For some reason the image he’d had of an adult bookstore, especially a queer one, was dark, bleak and cold, shrouded in secrecy. The store he was now facing on the opposite side of the crosswalk seemed the complete opposite of that. There were no displays in the windows. They were covered with newspapers and cardboard, but it still looked bright, like light was shining out of it. There were bright spots of colour on the walls, the windows littered with flyers and signs boldly demanding liberation. 

It was breathtaking. Really, he could barely breathe looking at this...This beacon of hope. A huge knot in his chest slowly unravelled as he watched people walk in and out for a while, inching closer and closer to the store. He was only seventeen and had never needed a fake ID for anything, so he never even thought of getting one. Going inside didn’t seem like a good idea. Besides, he didn’t think he would even know what to do once he was inside. No, he couldn’t go in. 

What he could do was walk around the back and see what sorts of people were around there. He was probably not dressed right, he thought, self-consciously fluffing up his hair, which was matted to his face by the late September heat. His plain jeans and t-shirt seemed oddly underwhelming to him as he psyched himself up to walk around the corner. He really had no idea what he was doing but he crossed the street and slowly walked by the back of the shop.

He’d expected more people to be there, but it was the middle of the day, the sun burning down onto his face and there were only three other men around, leaning against the cool brick walls of the building to Harry’s right. He scanned their faces. One of them was a black man who seemed to be in his thirties. He was smoking a cigarette, holding the bud between his fingers delicately and flicking the ash off in an exaggerated manner. He was talking to another man, a little older than himself. 

Then there was somebody who was probably only a few years older than Harry himself. He had his body turned half-away so Harry could only barely make out the delicate slope of his nose and his chiselled profile. He was leaning against the seat of a motorbike, what type or model, Harry had no clue. But he was toying with the zipper of his leather jacket and glancing down at the magazine in his hands. 

None of them noticed Harry the first time he walked by. The second time, the guy with the motorcycle looked up briefly, but then got back to his magazine. Harry’s breath hitched when his bright eyes landed on him.

The man who’d been smoking stubbed out his cigarette as Harry watched from across the alley and walked into the store via the back door. The older man said goodbye and walked away shortly after. 

Harry stood, watching the store for a while longer, when another figure came into view. It was another man, at least ten years his senior. Upon the first glance Harry decided he was handsome. With his dark, curly hair and thick beard, he seemed even older than he probably was. His smooth skin and fashionable clothes gave him away to be on the younger side of thirty. 

Biting his lip, Harry turned on his heel once again and walked back up the street, stealing glances at the figures by the store. A stout woman with short hair, wearing a white tank top, walked out the back door and went to grab something from a car, before walking back inside. Harry wondered how many employees a shop like this might have, when suddenly somebody grabbed his shoulder. 

“Hello, sugar,” the dark haired man who’d just arrived a few minutes before said. He was standing close to Harry. A little too close, so he took a step back. “Don’t be shy. What’s your name?” he asked, backing Harry further against the alley wall. 

“Um,” Harry wasn’t ready to talk to somebody. His heart was beating hard in his chest. “I… What do you want from me?” 

“Oh, c’mon,” the man laughed lightly. If he weren't backed into a corner, Harry might think the sound was a pleasant one. But right now the fingers of the man were tracing the side of his belt and his mind was short-circuiting. “You know why you’re here and so do I.” 

“I’m – I,” Harry stuttered. “I don’t know.” 

“Let me help you figure it out then,” he said with a husky voice. Harry assumed it was supposed to be alluring with the way he tilted his head to look up at him through his lashes. He reached his hand out to touch Harry’s face. 

“Don’t,” Harry pleaded quietly. He didn’t know what to do, he felt like a deer caught in the headlights. It was conflicting in more ways than one. Harry had longed for this type of attention, but he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not like this. 

“Don’t what?” the man asked, caressing his cheek with a smile. This didn’t feel right. No matter how much Harry knew deep down he liked boys, this just didn’t feel right. 

“Don’t touch me,” Harry whispered, hearing his own voice quiver and feeling his eyes sting. 

“Honey, I promise I won’t hurt you,” the man assured, now fully grabbing Harry’s face and bringing it close to his own. 

“No,” Harry said, when he started leaning in to kiss him. Harry tried to turn his head away, but his jaw was caught in a vice-like grip. He struggled to control his limbs, mind going into overdrive. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen at all. Harry didn’t want to kiss this man. He didn’t want him to steal his first kiss. He could feel his face going slack in anticipation of the unwanted attention and braced himself for it.

“Hey man!” a voice sounded loudly from behind the guy who was currently nosing along Harry’s jaw. 

“What?!” he turned back, hand still gripping Harry’s face. 

“He said no,” the man by the motorcycle said, slowly putting his magazine down on the seat. 

“Fuck off, Tomlinson,” Harry’s attacker said, squeezing his face. 

“He clearly doesn’t want you there, Brad,” Tomlinson repeated, now coming nearer. “Let the boy go.” 

“What do you think he was looking for?” Brad laughed bitterly. “If he’s cruising by the store he clearly wants it.”

“Doesn’t matter what he was looking for, since he’s clearly said he doesn’t want it from you,” Tomlinson said, approaching still. He spoke calmly but there was an edge to his voice. 

“Do you think he’d rather have a twink like you?”

“I don’t know what he wants but why don’t you ask him? Ask him if he wants you to keep crushing his jaw with your filthy paws?”

Brad’s fingers lessened their pressure on his face and Harry swallowed, unclenching his jaw, looking between the men who were fighting over him. 

“Don’t touch me,” he pleaded again, his voice cracking on the last word. He pushed at the hand on his face again and managed to step away from the man this time. Brad looked at Louis with a stern set to his brow and spat on the ground. 

“Fuck you,” he sneered and brushed past the biker as he backed away. 

Harry stayed in his corner, watching until he was out of sight, then breathing a sigh of relief. The tears that had stung in his eyes before, now flowed out without preamble and his knees nearly gave out under his weight. What was he thinking coming to this place? He couldn’t even handle a single interaction – clearly he wasn’t ready for this at all.

“Hey,” the quiet rasp of Tomlinson’s voice caught his attention. Harry wondered what he was still doing here and looked up. The man had a handkerchief in his hand and stretched it towards Harry. “Brad’s a dickhead,” he declared, “and he came on way too strong. Come, sit down with me for a bit.” 

Harry looked at the white piece of cloth and carefully took it, drying his tears and sniffling. He followed this strange young man to the dirty back steps of the store and took the offered seat on top of his cherished magazine. The other leaned back against his bike again. 

“Wasn’t what you expected, huh?”

“No.” Harry let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t expect anything.” 

“Why are you here?” Tomlinson asked, carefully examining Harry’s state. 

“I…” Harry cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “I don’t know.” 

“What’s your name, kid?” the guy asked with a closed-mouthed smile.

“‘M Harry,” he answered, bristling at the nickname despite the man’s kindness. “Don’t call me kid. You can’t be much older than me.”

“Okay, Harry.” Tomlinson let himself grin and Harry was nearly blinded by the brightness of his smile. “I’m Louis…How did you hear about this place, Harry?”

“Um.” Harry swallowed. “There’s this boy at school who sometimes talks about the Vanguard and the Castro...He spent lots of time here over the summer. His name’s Nick?”

“Ah,” Louis nodded. “Are you friends with Nick?”

Harry shook his head. “Our groups eat lunch by the football field so I sometimes overhear what he says.” 

“And you thought you should come see Nowhere for yourself?”

“No...Well, yes. But I really didn’t plan it. I just turned right down the street and then I was here,” Harry recalled. He felt embarrassed about his blubbering, but Louis seemed to prefer it to his crying.

“Are you gay, Harry?” Louis asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world, like he was inquiring about the weather or making a remark on traffic. Harry startled. Nobody had ever asked him that. “I promise I’m not trying to trap you or expose you. I’m gay.” 

“Oh,” Harry looked at Louis properly for the first time since he’d arrived at Nowhere and took in his bright blue eyes and soft fringe. He looked just like any other college kid, Harry thought. There was something soft about his mannerisms as he fixed his hair, but it was nothing compared to the store clerk’s flamboyant flick of the wrist as he was smoking or the way some guy’s hips swayed as they walked in and out the store. 

“You don’t have to say, if you don’t want to,” Louis gave in.

“Um...” Harry shook his head, feeling weird about staring at Louis. “No, uh...I think I am? I haven’t tested the theory.” 

“Do you think that might’ve been what brought you here?” Louis smiled, seemingly happy with his answer and Harry smiled back.

“That sounds plausible,” Harry admitted, looking down at his dirty Chuck’s. The feeling of dread at the confrontation with Brad was slowly replaced by a warmth spreading through his chest. 

They stayed silent for a while after that, Harry getting lost in the turbulence of his inner self yet feeling lighter somehow. He’d never told anybody about his sexuality before and he didn’t know it would bring so much joy and such relief to have somebody he could trust with it. Not that he really knew Louis enough to trust him, but Louis had shared with him and now they had a common secret. 

“Have you ever been on a motorcycle, Harry?” Louis asked with an excited air to his voice, suddenly pulling Harry out of his thoughts. 

“No…” Harry looked up with furrowed brows. “Why?”

“Would you...want to try?” Louis asked with another blinding smile. 

“What? Me?”

“No, the other Harry.” Louis rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes, you!” 

“With you?” Harry asked, feeling his eyes go wide. 

“Yeah.” 

He thought for a moment. “Okay.” 

“Awesome!” Louis immediately launched into a small list of safety instructions and asked Harry if he had something he could put on over his t-shirt. A leather jacket would’ve been ideal, but Harry would have to do with his school running sweater. He jumped up and Louis tucked his magazine into the compartment under his seat from which he pulled a helmet for Harry. They got ready to depart in no time.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked, watching Louis zip up his jacket. 

“I was thinking towards the ocean? We could go towards the Zoo and then ride up along the beach towards the bridge,” Louis suggested. 

“Okay,” Harry agreed easily, feeling excitement thrum in his veins at the idea of going on a motorcycle ride with this gorgeous stranger. 

He got onto the bike first and Louis slid into place in front of him. 

“Remember, you have to hold on tight,” Louis said over the roar of his bike. Harry slid forward even further and pressed against Louis’ back. He secured his hands around his waist and for a moment the thought of when he’d last hugged another boy this close crossed his mind but then Louis kicked off the curb and they were weaving through the afternoon traffic of San Francisco.

It was a good, slow start to go through the city first, Harry decided. He got used to the wind in his face and the thrumming of the machine under him. And he learned to trust Louis as he weaved them in-between cars and leaned into the curves of the roads ahead. 

They reached the Zoo quickly and Louis stopped in the parking lot to check in with Harry before going up on the highway along the beach. Harry held on tight, afraid to make Louis lose his balance at high speeds, but he turned his head towards the sea and watched the waves come in and crash against the shore as they sped up towards the Golden Gate Bridge. 

He wondered if this was what freedom felt like. If holding on tight to another boy and rushing along parallel to the waves on the San Francisco shore was it, then maybe this was what Harry really wanted all along. Louis’ frame was slighter than his own, but he felt strong and secure in a way that Harry couldn’t quite explain. 

Louis slowed down and took an exit before the bridge. They stopped on the cliffs above Baker Beach and got off the bike. The noise of the cars on the highway thrummed a way off and contrasted with the soft sounds of the waves crashing against the beach. Harry shook his hair out after taking the helmet off and offered Louis a bright smile.

“Thank you!” he said, holding Louis by his shoulders for a moment, before hugging him again, this time from the front. Louis hugged him right back, chuckling with slight confusion at the outburst of affection.

“You’re welcome, I guess?”

“You are the best thing that could’ve happened to me today,” Harry whispered as they were parting. Some part of him hoped his words would be swallowed by the noise around them but Louis had sharp ears. 

“Now you’re making me flustered, Harold,” he said.

“No.” Harry looked into his eyes and cleared his throat. “If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what might’ve happened with that Brad asshole,” he said insistently, shivering at the ideas that crossed his mind. “I didn’t want somebody like that to be my first kiss,” he added more quietly.

“What should he have been like, then?” Louis asked, stepping a tiny bit closer yet. 

“Nice.” Harry’s deadpan reply startled a laugh out of both of them. “Empathetic, not that much older than me, kind…” he continued. “Somebody with a kind smile, beautiful blue eyes, soft hair...a leather jacket and a motorcycle.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

So Louis closed the miniscule distance between them and Harry waited with baited breath, but Louis just smoothed his hair away from his eyes. He smiled encouragingly and Harry finally understood what he was doing. He was letting Harry take the lead. 

“You’re perfect,” Harry breathed, before leaning in and pressing his lips to Louis’ momentarily. He could feel a smile tug at one side of his lips and moved there, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then, Louis started moving, his hands grabbing fistfuls of Harry’s sweater and pulling him closer by his waist. 

“Mmh,” Harry hummed, opening his lips against Louis’ slightly and relishing in the fact that Louis did the same. Their breaths mingled and Harry felt hot all over. He instinctively moved his hands to Louis’ hair and when Louis’ tongue tentatively brushed against his top lip, he sighed and met him in the middle. The hands on his waist let go of his sweater and pressed flatly against his back, pulling him in where there was no space to be pulled into anymore. 

It was overwhelming. Everything was Louis, Louis, Louis. Harry was light-headed. When they parted, he took a stuttering breath and Louis laughed, leaning back from Harry, but not letting him go. 

Harry smiled, dazed, and wondered what was so funny. Louis reached out and caressed his cheek. It was the same gesture that Brad had tried to carry out, but when Louis did it, it was gentle instead of predatory, it filled Harry’s stomach with butterflies instead of dread. 

“This was not how I expected my afternoon to go,” Louis said. “I’m not complaining though.” 

“Neither am I.” Harry grinned. “I think I’d like it to continue this way, actually.” 

“C’mon.” Louis took his hand and pocketed the key to his bike. “Let’s walk down to the beach.”

And they slowly made their way down the cliffs to the sandy beach. Now that they were away from the highway, and the afternoon sun warmed them to its full effect, Harry took off his sweater again. 

They found a small rocky alcove and sat down on top of Louis’ jacket to watch the sunset together while talking incessantly. Harry learned Louis had moved here during the Summer of Love and that he’d come here with nothing but his bike and a backpack full of clothes. Harry told him that he was alone a lot, his mother working double shifts at the store and his sister off at college. They talked about their families and what they wanted from their future and before they knew it, it was getting dark and Harry really didn’t want to say goodbye, but when Louis dropped him off on the corner of his street, it was with a promise to meet again tomorrow. That, and the fleeting kiss they shared when nobody was looking had to be enough to get him through the night. 

Now that he’d had a taste of freedom, Harry didn’t think he could ever go back. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments mean the world to me!  
> Here's a rebloggable [tumblr post.](https://evilovesyou.tumblr.com/post/638130194154127360/behind-nowhere-by-4ureyesonly28-3529-words-harry)


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